Dr. Frankenstoned

After the party, Fredgie and I went home (Fred looked especially star-struck and one guess why, when he disappeared with his snuggle later on in the party) and repaired to our rooms, not bothering to dis-Bmovieize ourselves, so my head was hovering about a foot over the pillow from all that puffy hair I had goin' on. I was high on spirits and not thinkin' anything could damper the mood. I'd just celebrated the twenty-third year of my clone and me bein' together, after all. What could be better?

But somewhere durin' the night, my dreams went back a year, and when I woke up, my skin was stickin' to the sheets from all the sweat. My pillow was also damp as anything, but it wasn't for the same reason.

My eyes fly open, the dark room only disturbed by the spot here and there of glow in the dark whathaveyous, and the loud rumble in my right ear. Reggie's gone to sleep on my shoulder, like always, her paw curled around my newborn baby ear. Its birthday's comin' up soon, too.

My throat feels hoarse, and I put my hand to it, tryin' not to disturb my snoozin' princess. My heart's pounding. My breathing's fast. I squeeze my eyes shut and clear my throat. Musta been makin' a ruckus. Just hope Fred didn't hear.

To think that this year mighta been the first birthday I'd celebrated alone...to think I'd have to find something else to celebrate, 'cause our birthday's always been the same thing to me. The day we became clones. And it almost became the day we stopped being clones. And it woulda been all my fault.

I should've gotten over this by now. I shoulda been content with learning my lesson and moving on, but...when the image of that shot o' light hurtlin' straight for my own other half...straight from my chest, the spell I aimed...

The rumblin' in my ear changes to a sorta lickin' purrin' sound, and a feel Reginald's scratchy tongue start to work over my cheek.

"Hungry for a little salt?" I ask 'er, pettin' her head and wipin' my other cheek.

He tongue goes up the side o' my face, scratches my eyebrow, then comes to my ear, which she gives one gentle bite and then rubs 'er head against.

"Come on, Princess," I say, my voice a little raspy. "Lets get ourselvies down to the lab, put this coat to some use. We'll get some more sleep later."

I tuck my kneazle under my arm and slip outta my room, pausin' at the top of the landing to make sure my clone's asleep and undisturbed. Sounds all systems go. I tiptoe down and grab a brownie from the pan on the table along the way, yawning.

It's a project I been workin' on for over a half a year. Something I been doin' alone, mostly 'cause I work on it at night when I can't sleep 'cause o' that stupid dream. Don't wanna let on that I still have troubles from time to time, Fred would be upset. He's upset by enough from me and don't wanna add more to it, so I keep mum. And should this project work, there won't be no reason to worry him anymore. Well, leastwise not with this.

As the half-year's gone by, it's become less and less a project for my own purposes. When Dox tol' me 'bout that attack and what mighta done, I figured she might need it. And when the Scar mentioned something 'bout sleep aides and I told 'im 'bout the ribbons, I figured he might too. With all both of 'em have been through, with their battles and the things they seen, I can see how they'd need something to help aleviate the fear.

At first, I wasn't quite sure what exactly I was gonna make, but as I researched and read up and remembered lessons and whatnot, it came to my mind that whatever I made would have to be something pretty damned powerful, something more than a spell or a charm, and more than some potion you drink. When I always felt best was when the clone'd give me a great big clone-crushing hug, 'cause it meant he was there. So if I could make something what felt like a hug, then it could help.

But not only a hug. Fear...boggarts and dementors come to mind. Laughs. Chocolates. Happy thoughts. Think of a wonderful thing, any happy little thing...pixie dust.

I let out a giggle. Find it right funny, stuffed away in my little hidden compartment behind the floo, with Reggie on my lap. Yeah, pixie dust'd help. I lick a few brownie crumbs off my fingers and lean my head back against the bookshelves. Yeah, pixie dust. A hug, some chocolate...damn, suddenly I'm a bit peckish, even after this brownie. Yeah, chocolate with pixie dust. But how would a person make something into it. I mean, it's gotta be something beyond somethin you'd eat.

Mmm...cheese doodles. Nope, they wouldn't help, but I could go for some right now. What'd be like a hug? Remember when Fred was off with a past snuggle of his, couldn't sleep so I stol' 'is blanket and wrapped up in it. Smelled like 'im, and I pretended it was a hug. Wouldn't tell nobody 'bout it. He knew, o' course. Yeah, maybe a blanket would do. Blankets're like hugs for beds. Yeah, hugs for the single bloke.

"We got blanket hugs," I tell Reggie, and sorta laugh at my voice. Sounds a bit funny. Reggie looks up at me, sniffs my fingers, and her little kitty mouth goes ajar like she's just smelled something funny. Makes 'er purrs sound funny, too. I giggle at that. "Choose...doodles. Nah, only jokin'. What was before them doodles? Yeah, think it was pixies. All ya need is faith and trust and a little bit o' pixie dust. Where ya figure we can find pixie dust? Mmm, think I'm gonna go to bed."

Guess the good laugh did it. Dunno quite, but damned if I don't feel right fine and comfortable now. I crawl back through the fireplace and trudge up the stairs, feelin' my stomach sorta tryin' to pull me back downstairs, maybe for some cereal. Or another brownie. Oh yeah, Lee gave 'em. Huh, can guess what that means. Well, so I'm stoned. Least I can get back to sleep now.</lj>